


On clipped wings

by Kasan_Soulblade



Series: Variations of a Tune [2]
Category: Legend of Zelda, Legend of Zelda the Windwaker
Genre: Gen, Kaun is a papa wof, Link/Aryll brother-sister relationship, The Helmroc King is mischevious, and eats sharks, and evil, because it can, exploring Forsakens society, flight, how fitting considering he's a wolfos, tentative sequel to Stages of flight, the societies of the islands, trying to bypass the legends to dodge the prophecy, unconventual route to a familar world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:32:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasan_Soulblade/pseuds/Kasan_Soulblade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hyrule was not a country, but the World.  Hold this ghost of Wisdom tight, dare a step, steal a breath…<br/>The depths are dark and calling.</p><p>Time’s passing has been a mercy. It’s tempered fury, even as endless defeat has ground in wisdom of a harsh sort and ground out impulses that once indulged the had been the atrocities of tales past.  Luckily for most those tales are forgotten and thus forgiven by memories failure.  </p><p>If there was a blade to be scavenged from this ruin it was all the sharper for its bed of ash and desolation.<br/>It was not Evil’s Bane.  There was no Hero for this tale.  The worlds were quite done with them, and Princess’ and their precocious wisdom of a divine bent.</p><p>Fitting that. For overseeing it all were three pillars, broken beyond remedy, three thrones stood empty as the play continued atop ruination for its audience of none.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pre story note:
> 
> An AU based off of an old prompt I’ve /never/ seen fulfilled but wished someone else would do. Since no one stepped up I figure I’d do so myself. Much like “Dog eared” and “Norms” these two tales (“Clipped” and “Song”) are loosely connected. Most blantently I’m reusing Wolfkaunos/Kaun because honestly he’s my favorite OC but beyond recycling some OCs and stealing a few plot points off of my outline for “Song” these are two very different stories that may echo each other from time to time as it’s drawn from the same world but through different perspective. Since I’m likely to have readers from one tale skimming over the other I felt an explanation was due.
> 
> Thanks for reading in advanced,
> 
>  
> 
> Kasan Soulblade

On clipped Wings

The Expected (and how it’s merrily tossed out the window)

 

There were monsters, and sneaking, and slinking from shadow to shadow.  All the three were expected

(There’d been a catapult, and a barrel, and a flight sans wings, that was unexpected so it didn’t fit here)

There were cages-

(all empty)

-and shadows, hence the slinking.  Because without his sword he wasn’t going to try anything with the monsters, so sneaky way up it was.  And there was the omnipresent sense of things that creep in them (besides him) and the awful hovering _coulda, woulda, shoulda_ that was scarier than the things that he _could_ see.

And there were stairs.  Lots and lots of stairs.

By the time he was nearly done he was _done_.  As in stuff in the cook pot and set the fire because he was just that far gone.  But he still wasn’t finished, not yet.  There was Sis to think about, and stairs to climb because maybe she was at the top of them.  She had to be because he’d been everywhere else and she wasn’t below like the big pig monsters were.

So here he was, a few turns up yet another stairwell, and wondering who was crazy enough to live in a place like this.  Because here was stone upon stone, a hollow thing that went up courtesy of a  wooden walkway that had something too precarious along its edge to call a rail.  Light was a precarious thing, but that was fitting since it was night and there were no windows.  No, whoever lived here did not like windows.  In their place were slits along the stone sides, for illumination the innards of his ascent were prickly due to steal talons that clasped sticks afire.  Granted it was only every other stick that was on fire and the place about the fire was bare, but he didn’t trust it.

Which was why when he sat to think and breathe and honestly feel he sat in a patch of gloom thank you very much.  Above him, tip toe hands over head might be able to touch its base, was a slit.  Just wide enough for him to maybe slide a few fingers through.

 Maybe, if he tried to flatten his pinky fingers a bit.

Though light wasn’t let in the wind whistled a one tone tune over his head.  A sudden gust that’d set a structure of wood to quivering blasted through and swiped the green cap off his head besides.  He let it. Not bothering to reach after it, or even scoot after it to see where it had fallen.

Likely below, where another one of those curiously empty cages were.

Only when he was sure he wouldn’t wobble he got to standing.  His legs ached and he whined a bit since no one was about to hear him.  Once up to got to walking, up not down that was. Gran’ma might’ve spent forever knitting his green cap but she’d worry more for him than it and he was a smart enough boy to know that.  So he didn’t worry a tick about the hat.

For his Sister, well he worried about her lots.

Even before big birds the size of small islands had swept down and picked her up, he’d had plenty to worry about.  About her swimming too far, and tides, and sharks.  The forest atop home while small was thick and there were a few snakes here and there and girls’ hated snakes, so that was a worry too, but a bit more distant since Sis spent far too much time swimming for his tastes.  Closer than sea and forest were the bigger boys who were sometimes meaner than they should be.  There’d been a lot to keep an eye on and keep her safe from.

But he had, and hadn’t minded.  She was his sister after all.  He just squeaked his big brother stuff around chores, though he sometimes “forgot” to do chores so he could spent more time doing brother things because those were funner and weeding was boring.

A few other turns and he was a reasonable ways up, and aching, and really really wishing he’d found his sword.  He felt silly with just the wooden shield strapped to his back, but it was something.  And he’d been everywhere and Orca’s short sword wasn’t anywhere.

He’d have to do something nice for Orca when he got back, to say he was sorry.

And he’d also have to blame the Pirates.  Because when one considered the maters of catapults, and how he’d gotten in (via one) his borrowed sword was likely at the bottom of the seas.

Thinking about nice things to do for Orca, nicer than weeding the old Sword Master’s garden was something nice to do, so he did it and the knot in his tummy that he’d named “worried for Aryll because of the Bad Bird” seemed to shrink a little.  Truthfully thinking up things was a little tricky (he’d normally ask Aryll for help there), but it made the walking bearable, and when the stairs ran out he was so busy thinking he didn’t notice the ladder until he walked into it.  A quick look up told him that the ladder led to a trap door that was wide open, so up he went without a thought in his head.

Humming, because there was no one to talk to and the wind really needed a counterpart because it’s whistle was so _samey_ , he looked about the tower’s top.  Just feathers the size of him in crudely rounded off corners. That and a nice wide wood bridge from this tower to a rocky outcrop that had a ship atop it.

He might have lost his song when he looked at it.  The thought of “how’d that get all the way up there” sorta drove everything else out for a little.  Still he found path and melody and something of softness besides and got to sneaking.

On tip toe, because that’s how all the best sneaking was done.

There were lights, lights in the misplaced ship’s port holes.  Halfway across the bridge one of those lights flickered as something dark and big went across it.  Whatever it was was bigger than big, bigger than the walking stick pigs and he’d been sure that those were the biggest things ever.

If his feet went into revolt and didn’t want to sneak for a little, well he made them, because he, not they, were needing to find his Sister and this was the last place.  If she wasn’t here…

He didn’t know what he’d do.

He knew he was close when he could hear voices, one deep, one deeper and snarly besides.  The wall of this ship, once just plain old wood had acquired a stripe of red paint.  As he sneaked he listened, and wasn’t able to hear anything because the voices got softer the closer he got. Weird that, almost as weird  as the stripe above his head.  It widened as he went, slashed down into patterns that over lapped pattern until it became a block of color. 

Where the color was darkest and freshest was a door with a knob like any other door anywhere else.

Well this wasn’t anywhere else, this place had drooling pig monsters and a giant island sized bird’s nest and it wasn’t home.

But he wasn’t, rude that was, and even though he was here and not home that small bit of normalcy recalled him of homelike things.

Like manners.

He knocked, and the quiet voices cut off.  If one ended in an oddly doggish yelp well he didn’t say anything about it.

This place had pig people for the Sea’s sake; dog people weren’t that much of a stretch.

For a while it was him, and the wind, and the quiet and the door that held whoever on the other side away from him.  And hopefully, his sister.  When no one came or said anything he knocked again, and the second time turned the trick.

“Enter.”

So he did.

The room was wood, and there were port holes about the walls and a orange rug pooled about a big chair that was covered in pelts that was topped in a skull set just right so both it and the person in the chair could stare at whoever entered.  All he got was a glimpse of big and dark and perhaps a bit of red tops about when the whole of his attention was taken from the person in the chair because-

“Big Brother!”

Because Aryll was _here_ , and _safe_ , and hugging him so tight it hurt but not the way his legs hurt.  It was a sorta good hurt that took the pain from his tummy and heart and head and everything was alright, for one perfect moment.

He held on as tight as he was held, even when something walked past him that clanked and rattled he didn’t care.

He did start caring when the door was closed, the snick of it snapping shut brought him back to reality. He looked up from Aryll with a cold jolt jumping up and down his back.

The thing that looked back was big and red, a deeper red than the walls were painted.  It was and metal but not quite all metal.  Its angles gleamed and where there wasn’t metal and angles there were patches of grey cordy hair about the seams and joints of its encasement couldn’t seem to hold in.

That and the head, there was no metal there, only a dog’s head, save the snout was too long and the teeth were too sharp and the eyes glowed like embers in its skull.

“You are late, boy.”  So spoke the dark form on the big chair on its pool rug.

“I didn’t know I was being timed.”  He huffed, pushing Aryll back and a bit side because back was where the red metal thing was.  And though he felt really stupid he did pull off his shield, maybe he could hit the person-monster things shins or something.

To the bearing of a shield the thing on the chair smiled, showing teeth as white and sharp as the edges that peeked out from where the furs it sat upon didn’t quite meet.

“Not by myself, I’m not so petty. The girl however had been boasting about your prowess endlessly.”  The person shaped thing tipped his head to Aryll, the red rupee set against his skull flashed like a misplaced dog monster’s eye.  “The young miss owes me a blue rupee.”

“I said _green_ FireEyes.”

A fitting name there. Because the man-things eyes started orange but were like embers.  Taking life from the air, as the man had talked they flicked from red to orange and back again, slowly but surely cycling through fires colors.

He was big, this dark burning eyed thing.  Draped in black that held no pattern save two wide orange serpents that chased and clasped cinder colored orbs.  One per arm, and the arms, like the rest of him were thick and big and not fat merchant big either.  How he loomed without standing was a wonder, and the boy wasn’t the only one to notice the strain of hostility building if the metallic clank (wince) from behind meant anything.

“Why are you here, little boy?”

The man’s robes moved just so, showing the hilt of a blade, the threat was obvious but the boy was about as oblivious as his sister and didn’t really note it save for an absent thought of “how can he sit with it poking like that” and nothing else.

“So… umm.. I ah…”  Expected had taken a lazy day.  Feeling five types of stupid as the monster person waited the boy floundered. Under fire’s regard it was so hard to think, and there were monsters, people and dog people and pig people and all were awfully big (if not just plain awful) his brains seemed to take be joining expected on that day off.

The whole area outside was spooky and it’d made thinking outside hard.  So he hadn’t had to think there, save when sneaking.  Thinking inside then should have been easier, save the sitting guy was getting creepier and there was a monster here too and it mixed so sour with the room.  The room was lit well and he could see and it was warm and not miserably cold like everything before had been.

Where he anywhere else, especially where things weren’t like this he’d of called the lot cozy and might have tried the chair on for size because all those furs had to be really soft.

“I’m here to save my sister, Mister Fire-?”

“Dragos.”  Hand raised then fell; the boy fell silent despite the gesture, or rather because at gestures end the hand was closed over the swords hilt.  “You may address me as Dragos for now.”

“Mr. Dray-ghost?”  Aryll snickered.

“Only by your brother, my dear, neither you nor Wolfkaunos are allowed to take such liberties in butchering my name or title.  But then… Heros are always granted liberties in the tales.”

The hand clenched, and having seen Orca’s hand do the same thing before a quick draw, something he’d been trying to teach the boy… well…. The Outsetter took a step back and considered everything.  He was here, Aryll was here, and really it was time to go home because they were done.  Because he’d come here to go home but he couldn’t go home without Aryll, and Aryll was here, and she was fine.

In short everything was so better than he’d expected and that was good.

“I’m here to save my sister.”  The mysterious “Though the shirt the right hue…” Really didn’t mean much of anything, and when it was all the man-thing seemed inclined to say…  Well the boy buried plowed right ahead.  “Are you going to stop me?”

Fire hued eyes slid into slits, as something was considered.  Clearly it wasn’t what the boy’d just said, because forever had come and gone and the child was still waiting.  Finally, just tired and done long the Outsetter decided what the heck and sat.  His legs hurt less for it and Aryll happily sat at his side.

“He does this a lot, just thinking, it’s best to be quiet and sit.”  She whispered, deciding to cuddle as well.  “He gets crabby otherwise.”

Orange eyes flared red and stayed that way.  The hand still lingered on the sword and the glare sent Aryll’s way was definitely a threat that set all of her big brothers neck hairs to standing.

“Well you do, and you are.  Are you done yet?”

“Yes, I do hope you haven’t had to wait for long.”  Came the snarled rejoinder.  A whimper from by the door and another clanking cringe told the boy he wasn’t the only one wondering what had gotten into his sister.

Aryll’s answering yawn obscured whatever she said back, and she didn’t repeat herself but then the dark form on the chair didn’t ask for her to and they were done it seemed.  Aryll just curled a little tighter and those burning eyes flicked to him, and stayed.

“I’ve not coerced your sister to remain, she stays by choice.  The incident with the bird was an accident, and for that I apologized… to _her_.  I owe you none however.”

“You _did_ ruin big brother’s birthday.”

To that the man-thing Dragos had nothing to say.

“We can leave?”

“I’ve no need or want for guests.”  Dragos rumbled, “the girl-child has earned her place here and immunity from the things I rule over.  The wild, the feral... well I don’t rule everything.  But such is the risk of life at Forsaken.”

“Can you send us home?”  It was hard to talk when Aryll’s hands –the smelled all hot and bitter with a touch of ash, he winced away when she found a tangle courtesy of his hat- started playing with his hair.  Still he tried.  “With a boat or something?”

A snort.  “Boy, I’ve neither resources nor time to waste fiddling with boats.  I burn them, and their crews.  Can I send you home?  Yes. Will I?  I’ve yet to be persuaded it’s worth the trouble.”

He stood, stood sudden and sharply, and Aryll’s squawk was a small thing in the swell of his rising anger.

“You… you’ve got this big bird and it snaps people up and who knows what you did to the other girls, but there were others because all the pirates know it!  And you keep them and my sister and it’s not worth the trouble to send us home when it’s your stupid birds fault for bringing us here!”

Silence, save for the soft scrape of claws on wood and  fire’s crackle as the man who’d stolen embers for eyes considered  the outraged, shivering boy before him.  He’d stomped clear across the room stood almost right up to the big chair, the rug and its curly hairs nipped his toes at rants end.

 “Everything’s _your_ fault.”

To that childish barb the man went still, even his breathing stopped.

“That… boy, is truer than you could ever believe, if you believed certain people of course.”  And with that bit of confusing babble the man bared teeth and fangs because he had both in his mouth when he smiled.  “I will consider your most eloquent claims later but for now…

“Master.”  The thing from the door bobbed its head; ears slicked back, eyes fixed on everything save the children and the person sitting.  “False dawn steels the sky.”

“For now… We’ll part company.  Wait my summons, boy, they’ll come by sooner than you’d like.”

“My name is Link, not boy!”

The smile widened, sharpened.  More fangs than teeth and wider, so wide it must burn like those eyes.  “I know that, boy, but you’re one of many, and truthfully I don’t care.”  Lifting his head, just so, the seated considered the standing dog thing.  “Kaun, throw them out.”


	2. Chapter 2

Clipped Wings

chapter 2

They slept in a nest of torn sails and were wrapped in purloined lengths of red. They weren’t blankets not fluffy enough and there was a lot of black hair about them, but on a whole the lot were soft enough and resistant to tugging. There were no sweet grass pillows for their heads, just shreds purloined from under them and set on folded arms. The scent of ash was so strong it lingered as a taste come morning.

Or whatever time it was, when he work up.

Shaking off cobwebs, real ones, all gummy and white, he scraped his hands though his hair and was happy that he found no tickling legs for his efforts. Just a dust lump the size of a cucoo egg that he flicked off of one shoulder with a scowl.

He greeted the morning to pain, and he felt stupid, and smelled ashy, and was cold. And being cold was weird, because the islands were never cold, except for this FireEye’s island it seemed. Because this place was cold, stupidly cold. He could feel chill seeping through the nest and set goosebumps all over. The quick effort to find the shoes he’d kicked off before bed left his feet aching and the hand he used to push himself to standing to start that looking was tingly and slow for what felt to be forever.

Still he didn’t complain, not much save a few whines under his breathe. Because Aryll was sleeping. Or rather there were sleeping noises coming from the twisted bundle of red and shreds where Aryll had settled herself for the night last night.

Holding himself tight, arms about legs, legs bent and kept close least they shiver he looked and found looking about was hard. The room was big, stretched up and up into a sorta blocky forever that was black and looming and creepy like everything else. The only breaks in the looming were the floor, all wood and dusty, and the blocky shadows that were pushed up against the nearest wall. Crates he’d guess, as to what they held, well one of them had been dumped shaken out to make their bedding.

Aryll’d said thank you, and nattered about how much nicer than stone it was, or just plain old cold floor. To that Link mighta got mad, save the dog-things ears were slicked back and he’d sorta looked mad too. A quick glance up, to dark, to something above and beyond this bound dark, told tales. That and the thing’s said “I know”. Never had an “I know” ever sounded like “I’m sorry” save here, and now… well _then_ really.

Not that Aryll’s noticed. She never did. She’d snuggled on sails like it was the softest feather down and was asleep in a flick of a gull’s wing.

She hadn’t forgotten to say good night though, never that, and to something so right, so home Link smiled. Smiled and waited and his teeth chattered through it all. He’d been told, they’d been told to stay. It wasn’t safe, and they were to be out.

So he waited in a room without bars and wondered why. But he waited and listened to Aryll sleeping and counted the way to home on seagull wing strokes, because without the pirates and their ship it was the only way back.

And wasn’t he just stupid for thinking of it now, made to feel stupider when he’d asked, and been told that the pirates were gone. So long gone that no one’d known they were there at all.

A click and creek announced the presence of someone, turning about Link considered intruder and the dim light that surrounded it as it entered. Wolfkaunos was a massive thing. Taller than tall, save for the dark ceiling that was taller than him, and the dark person-monster that was bigger than anything despite not being as tall as the world around him. The monster crept in, well jingled in, but it was a quiet slow sorta entering.   When someone mixed metal plates and wore tunics of chain under said plates quiet was hard.

Still Link’d hushed the thing and it had slicked its ears back with a whisper whimper and quick look to the Aryll lump.

Claws flashed in dull grey light of outside, a whisper of sound, the sea, wood against water, for a while that’s all that was. Finally, a head tip, when whatever that meant wasn’t heeded ears pricked forward and claws flashed and flexed in a silent come here motion. Link considered saying now, and was considered by red eyes in turn. Finally, when the snout lifted and fangs were mutely bared Link stood, tossing blanket over Aryll he stood and walked and left all without saying a word.

The door closed behind him, clicked quietly closed and once it was done the beast nodded and twisted lips along long muzzle until it could speak.

“She sleep well?”

As if it cared, which it didn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t.

Because monsters _didn’t_. Still manners prompted him to reply because he’d been spoken too, so he said. “Yeah.”

“Good.” A huffy bark which meant… what? Link didn’t know so he didn’t guess. “Sleep is hard to get in Forsaken. The floors chill quite bitingly even for one with a tick pelt. Come along.”

Clawed hands nipped about his shoulder, turning him, and he was walked a little, willingly walked a little until the pinch eased up. Once he was let go though he stopped, he looked up the monster looked down.

“Where are we going?”

Because forward was long and grey and not as cold as the big box that’d been Wolfkaunos’ Den (the last said so dryly he’d never eat salt again just for the hearing) but it was away. And way meant away from Aryll.

“The Bird brought in a boat last night, are you ear dead as well as nose deaf?” A yelp as Link not so accidentally stepped on the swishing tail. The fluffy length curled tight against a metal plate covered leg, red eyes eyed his boots as if there were thoughts of chewing going on.

“Sorry about that.”

Hopefully the thing didn’t know insincerity when it heard it.

The monsters doggie ears slicked back, and there was a hint of heat to the glowing eyes that set a blush on Link’s face. But just a small one.

“Mind your hooves.” Came the growl. A real growl, with fangs bared and a driblet of spit about the lower jaw. Taking one step back Link considered saying sorry again, but in the end said nothing, because after the growl was done the creature went back to talking. After a snap to cut off the dribble and a swallow to make sure nothing else oozed the thing carried on. “Speaking of hooves, the Miniblins and Mokoblins already got first share, as did the Packs. We’re scavenging for the Master.”

“ What about Ar-“

“She sleeps, she’ll be fine. She can help when she wakes, and she’ll find us quick enough.”

“Alright.” 

A nudge, harder than the last and it left a tear on his shirt besides, and Link was back to moving, to being moved by the big red metal dog thing. Down a hall they went, a normal one, all cold and stone, a door later, and some bending and scraping from the dog when he went through and normal just wasn’t. Not anymore. It was a room. Bigger than the room they’d slept in. Bigger than anything really. One wall was gone, gone and lead up and out and there was sky and sea and boats sitting in that open wide place. Or rather, what had been a boat. The top was smashed to kindling, scraps and tinder were scattered everywhere. The rail, or what he thought might have been one, was warped like grass stalk, twisted ‘til torn and left sorta standing on its post. As for the mast, it wasn’t standing, rather snapped off its remnants gouged by a grip so big it hut to think about what’d done that.

Tatters of white lay all about the deck, sheets that shivered though the wind was weak here and its song just a ripple causing murmur.

As for anything else… well seeing was hard. He’d only seen so much because he’d stood on tip toe on one of the docks posts, a hop or two had helped his seeing along a little, but he’d only been allowed two hops before clawed hands had yanked him down.

“Stop that.” A shake and he was dropped down. While he was getting up, a slow thing because though the dog thing had shook him once it’d been a hard shake, the monster eased down onto all fours. A creaking sorta crawl followed, that ended in a pier wrapped in rope. The doggies crawl was filled with creeks and other nonsense like “Silly, stupid, foam mouthed, little rabid puppies come in _pairs_ …”

There’d also been bad words. Really bad ones that Link hadn’t heard before, all wrapped up in growls and tail whips that seemed as nasty as Orca’s teeth gnashing. Through it all Link shuffled in place, content to watch as the thing found (with a bark no less!) something, and started unwinding rope from a pier, nearly bending into the seas itself as it’s enthusiastic unwrapping went on.

It was a lotta rope, enough so that it bunched into knots behind the creature before, with an ooph, it pulled up the last. Was knocked back by the last, with a clang of metal on metal . Only when the dog monster rolled the thing off and it thudded on the wood a mere inch or so away did Link see it, an anchor, except, anchors weren’t that spiky looking and this thing was so spikey it had teeth.

“What’s that?” Link asked, creeping up to it, eyes wide wondering if it was the gloom or if the mouth anchor had really truly moved.

A wheezing grunt was the dog-thing’s answer.

Thinking the rope was the thing’s problem Link tugged at the tangle of legs and tail it was sorta like unwinding a tangled spool, save spool didn’t snarl when he ruffled it’s hair the wrong way and monsters didn’t belong in spools. They made the thread go really wrong then.

When he shoved the worst of the lot to the edge Doggie was getting up, no longer tangled and panting, Link decided then and there that he liked the sound of Doggie. Doggie was nicer than Wolfosososk and easier to say too. Smiling, Link watched as the thing stood, some staggering and it was facing the boat anchor thing in hand.

He didn’t ask again, didn’t have too, because the anchor was given enough slack that it could be spun about and it was spun, faster than fast and released so it arched high and far, a crunch telling the teeth had bit home. One tug, two just to make sure, and the thing nodded its muzzle. Then it turned, offering saturated rope to the green clad boy.

“Pups first?”

“I’m not a puppy.” Link huffed, taking the rope and giving it a tug. Not quite able to get a good grip he hopped up on the pier’s post. Another tug and a better grip later and Link smiled wide now. That was much better and there was enough tension on the rope that if he swung really slow he definitely wouldn’t splat into the ships side. The Fortress’ side had been bad enough. “But you’re a dog, Doggie.”

Baring teeth in a not-snarl (because there weren’t snarling, or drool, or even slicked back ears) the things tail wagged and with one step back was behind the boy.

“Puppies always say that.” Was the rumbled counsel, followed by a shove, a hard one.

Link managed a scream before splat.

His grip, not so much.

Paddling back, aching and made slow for it, the boy swam up to pier, where he was wheeled up by clawed hands.

“Wolf-kaun-os.” The name mixed growl and threat all it’s teeth were in attendance.

“You’re just a big dog!” Link flared.

There was a splash as the dog decided keeping his grip too much trouble, and a sputtered snarled nonsense at the pier base.

Above them, beyomd it all, sliding through sun and to gloom and lingering longer in the later Karagocs chased shade and shadows with hissing screams.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for taking so long to update. I've got five chapters in the works that should be completed soon and posted sooner. Thanks for the patience of those who've waited for n update and sorry this one was so short, they'll get longer as it goes.

On Clipped Wings 

Chapter 3

An Edge

Because when night falls and he calls it’s not as they expected. Link had expected, and when asked he’d of said this, he expected the shadows to come to life, to swirl into scary shapes and speak, command them to come. Considering Fire Eyes’ creepiness anything less was just a letdown. Considering their collective summons boiled down to a flying malicious feather duster carrying a note with all of two lines, Link was both disappointed and relieved.

Still the boy’s surprise was contagious even if the rest of the sentiment was not. Kaun admitted he wasn’t expecting it, or rather the bird that had sent the summons so promptly. He’d waited days and days before being called up to something urgent before. The fact a mere afternoon had passed pushed this past urgent and into realms that were both unnamed and unnerving.

Aryll, of the three, was the least disappointed. She’d expected a bird, but not this bird who sported a mean dead fish yellow eye (the other missing) and a scruff that was more mange than feathery mane.

Snapping at fingers and leaving cuts, it took all three of them to wrestle the missive away. The beast danced upon a box that had served as Kaun’s meal table, a wet and rusty smelling affair that was mercifully never shown in full light. Link had more than one suspicion about the table, since wood didn’t rust, but considering Aryll he didn’t mentioned it. He only tried not to touch the wetter patches, something the bird did not make easy as it danced back and forth across them in its three way game of keep away. In the end Kaun was missing a bit of his mane, Aryll the skin about the tip of her fingers, and Link was missing his cap. As well as a few patches on his head.

Still it was done.

With a raucous caw to declare itself triumph the bird quit their company, left a mess, and left the three of them alone to unroll the parchment. At least that’s what Kaun called the coiled length, the Islanders hadn’t known that the creamy white stuff was. More than familiar with thinnest cloth, and the maps scrawled on those, and how their elders called the thinnest of the thin clothes paper and the piles of those papers books because their elders had said so (or rather Stugeon had said it was, and no one argued with Stugeon) watched in quiet wonder as the Wolfos unrolled the parchment, minding mess and wet patches. The revealed scrawls that met them was more angle than anything else.

Seeing it wasn’t a map Aryll considered her brother, who was sorta staring at the paper and wondering what it was made out of. For a moment Kaun loomed over paper, then let it go, let it roll itself back into a tube shaped lump it’d been before. Wondering if it’d changed again, Aryll reached out and unrolled it, the same pointy scrawl met her gaze from the first time, and the corner of the paper was darkening since she hadn’t unrolled it as carefully as Kaun had.

“Give me that.”

Aryll did, so Kaun’s snapping it out of her hand seemed more testy than mean.

“That’s… writing… right? Like not a picture, really writing, right?” Link mumbled, deciding that the aches form the day before (and today, spent crawling over a ship that wasn’t, whole or Tetras, or filled with anything really) really should be sat out.

There weren’t any rags so the floor was numb but it made a good match for how his head felt right about then.

“Yes…” The Dog monster growled. Then after a tail swish added. “I think so.”

“Do you know what it says?” Link asked.

“No.”

“Granma said I was supposed to learn to read next summer.” Aryll mumbled, “But Stugeon said he wasn’t goin’ to teach a girl how to read or write, no matter how much Granma nagged him.”

“Well if you hadn’t put crabs in his flower sack he might of said yes.” Link reminded his sister.

“I _said_ I was sorry.”

“And he found another crab on his bed after that.”

“I said I was sorry then too.” Aryll pouted, twiddling the edge of her shirt between her fingers. “Not that I’d stop….”

Kaun offered a bark like huff to the preceding, his tail slapping air soundlessly behind him.

Wondering what that was about Link decided to say nothing about it. About other things though, like notes, he had a lot to say.

“Well Stugeon taught _me_ to read a little and no writing from Outset ever looked like… _that_ …” Wrong so spoke his emphasis, different, pointy, and wrong again. “We should just go home.” Link said, to Aryll, because the big dog thing wasn’t saying anything, nothing at all. “I want to go home.”

You should too, both understood the tone, the words unsaid, of the two Kaun showed the most emotion, flicking his ears back and down and lifting his lips in a soundless snarl. Aryll, she just looked to dark and for a moment Link had to wonder what she was seeing besides the dark.

“Aryll…”

He reached for her, to take her hand, to make her understand… But she took a step back and away, bumping into the Dog monster’s side, and though a monster the creature didn’t seem to mind her being close. The creature wordlessly pulled his cloak over her though she didn’t shiver.

“Let’s see what Fire Eyes wants first big brother, then we can go home… I’ll… I’ll use his promises to get us home if I have to, if he says no, or gets mean, or losses his manners, or something.”

“You’re sure?” So spoke the canine, snarl lost, tail still, he loomed, red armored and caped he could have been a hero from Stugeon’s tall tales. Except Heroes didn’t wear red, they wore green, and they weren’t monsters. “This is what you want, to go home?”

Kaun’s cloak shivered, as Aryll moved about, conveying something, but the dark and her closeness to the monster, and the screen of red cloth Link wasn’t too sure what had been said, or done.

Still her words were loud enough when she said. “Let’s just go and see what Fire Eyes wants. We can tell him we couldn’t read his note, that it wasn’t written in Outsetter. He’ll understand.”

The whimpered, “hopefully,” wasn’t a comfort, to Link or to Aryll, still she let go and Kaun padded about, sorting through tattered sail beds for the slips of paper he’d dubbed “important to the Master” and tucked them under one metal covered arm, and Link got up walking in small circles to get all the numb, once they were all as ready as they could get they all got to moving.

It was a long walk.

As he walked he thought of ruined decks and scared planks, shadows were plentiful in Forsaken, and when he looked about or just back he was reminded of torn masts and destruction and waste so high it could be piled taller any of the houses in Outset.

As he walked Link shivered.

Then Aryll took his hand, and pointed out a quick “look see” that got them seeing a bunch of seagulls and Keesee flying about madly over Forsaken’s sunward wall. Save the sun wasn’t up and something had spooked the lot. They could only see the edges, from the few touches about and the moon that was full and high and so far away. The flight spurred by fright turned into mad free fall marked by squeals and squeaks and near sweat caws. As he watched, -and was allowed to watch, for the dog creature didn’t tell them to hurry up, simply stopped a few steps away and joined in their seeing- Link noticed something curious. Keesee were known to bite and sported long fangs so they bit really well, and they weren’t.

They simply lashed out with blunted little legs that seemed to do more teasing and tickling than grabbing for no feathers fell in the light, perhaps none at all.

A huffed bark and a clank to remind them they were needing to move along the sibs recalled where they were, and Aryll muttered a soft “Sorry Kaun.” for them both.  Had to really, because Link was thinking something over. Even when they crossed the bridge and the nest after the tower, he was thinking something that he couldn’t quite say what, only that it was important and it was bigger then him.

So he worked at the edges while they went, while Aryll, who was holding his hand close, chattered at a monster twice Orca’s size like he was Orca himself.


	4. Chapter 4

On clipped wings

Chapter 4

 

Upon his throne of bone and furs (those taken from decrepit Wolfos and traitorous Moblins, the contrast was morally intriguing, their status as suitable for sitting and his frame was unaffected despite the materials and their moral ambiguity) he received his guests. He waited and watched wordlessly as first Kaun then the two children entered after him. He’d head the whole chatter, a quick barked warning about protocol, and was surprised that when they entered. For two Hylian children had listened to a Wolfos’ words.

They didn’t go so far as to bow to him, but were confusedly content to stay one step behind Kaun and watch him bow. It wasn’t perfect etiquette, but close enough to proper that some of his innate malice ebbed away.

They’d also learned the art of being quiet, or rather the girl’s brother had picked it up, though those cursed sea blue eyes roamed about, more on the things about than the people, and there was more than a ghost of the girl’s curiosity to that regard.

Still he’d not humor the child, or respond to that skittering regard.

All waited while Kaun gave his report, hinting of movement in the tunnels and places Aryll had been before, all were confirmed, and the papers were offered, those taken from the ruins of the ship.

Those he took and read and as they weren’t dismissed all peoples’ present waited while he read, still cleaving to that peculiar respectful quiet.

“Are you done yet.”

So spoke the green clad boy, wearing legend’s hue, save his shirt was two sizes too large and the pants were a bit too small. He looked like an actor rushed into the play, the bruises about what of his arms and legs Ganon could say told him the boy’d rushed into _something_.

“Liink…” So whined the smaller of the two, the girl who’d proven so horridly useful.  

Lowering the last page (a discourse on supplies, or so he suspected considering the word rum appeared more often then any of the others, Hylan was such a dodgy language he wasn’t quite sure) Ganondorf set his burning gaze from one to the other, enjoining quiet with a glare. Kaun who was vaguely in the way wince, a clanking affair that made his Lord’s lips curl back in a soundless growl.

All three crept back, Wolfos more-so than the children, but that was a credit to his longer legs and the fact he was gently pulling the girl-child a bit a ways from her brother while they backed up.

“Alright… that was a little rude…” The boy gulped, raking a hand over his curiously hatless head. Show of nerves done the boy locked his legs, braced, though should Ganondorf rise and move to strike out such efforts would have done him no good. “I’m sorry.”

With care Ganondorf set the pages upon one leg, he leaned back, letting his show of open hostility ease into unfamiliar placidity, he acquired something of a slouch to his sitting to make up for the lack of expression. A tell for a tell though none present would likely note it. The silence lingered, lengthened, until both children were squirming and Kaun’s ears which were slicked back so low they likely ached for the effort.

“Never, in all my years, have I heard a hero apologize.”

“I’m… I mean… I’m not… and you said something like that before, but I’m not.” The boy finally stopped looking about, just looked at him. “I’m not, like I said before, my name’s Link, not Hero, and I’m here to get my sister and go home.”

Lip quirking, Ganondorf nodded. “So you’ve said, yet you haven’t left.”

Small arms crossed, a show of defiance sorely misplaced, abut more for the world then him. “We can’t swim that good.”

To that curious complaint Ganondorf couldn’t help himself, he chuckled and boy and Wolfos winced back. Aryll just stood and waited, not really having anthing to say.

“It’s not funny!” The boy stomped a foot, showing one and all he was truly young, painfully so. “We can’t swim, we can’t fly, we can’t magic, and you don’t have a boat so what can we do?”

“Well staying here and eating my food and wasting my fortress space is hardly what I want you to do,” Ganondorf drawled. “Unless you’d like a cell, there’s plenty of room in those.”

While the boy gapped, proving youth and foolishness all at once Aryll huffed, giving him a heard headed look she’d given him the first night they met. That night when she said she wasn’t going to be scared at him no matter how he yelled, _he_ was going to listen to _her_. Her audacity and the fact that she had spoken quickly enough had been enough for him to actually listen.

With that look on her face she met his gaze and gritted out a grim “No thank you.”

That was it, and it was enough to nearly cause him to laugh at the sheer stupidity of it all.

Still he checked his crackling cackle, such set the shadows to stirring and disquieted any and all who heard it. Setting hand over papers, worthless papers, a bit of stained map so shredded it had not worth, two grocers list, a bit a bawdry reading in near illegible hand. Such were the _precious_ things Kaun had found. The only things after wreck and retrieval that were coherent or even repairable with effort and possible to make whole.

“Can’t you magic us back?” So the boy, clad in heroes hues he clearly didn’t’ want, whined.

“No.”

“Why not?”

More of the same, ever the same, to such monotony any mercy he might have found in this whimsy was wiped away.

“Because I can’t.”

To that stark confession there was silence, shock, some of it even his. He’d not meant to turn this into a confessional, had little need for such silly a thing as regret.

“Because… when what happened happened, when the world was changed, they locked my magic away.”

Aryll’s mouth opened, Kaun quickly swatted her with his cape, making it move grandiosely while shifting his sword. She took the hint. The boy never even noticed, latching on the present rather than the past.

“But the ship today, that _had_ to be magic.”

“Oh it was boy, and it’s older than me, thus boy, it’s not mine.” Stroking his beard, Ganondorf considered child then knight, fallen, Kaun’d forsaken his oaths when he braced shield against his master’s blade to spare the she-Hylian. “All things forsaken must come to Forsaken, like calls to like, it’s a… a rule to magic. When the last man jumped overboard, they forsook their ship, and this place _is_ Forsaken, so where else do you expect it to wind up?”

To that bit of logic the boy was still. Finally, curiously, he grumbled. “We weren’t. We were brought.”

“An accident, and nothing more,” Ganondorf assured. “You obviously don’t belong here.”

A huffed bark was answer to that, though Kaun wasn’t being spoken to, to that bit of noise Ganondorf considered his creature, and only the creature. Wolfos scrolled his gaze up and a bit to the side and said nothing.

“Send us home then.” Link snapped, stepping forward, expression twisted into a hard headed stubbornness that had suited other green clad children with blades of masterful make. “If we aren’t supposed to be here, then send us back.”

“But I’ve no boat boy, I can’t magic you, and you can’t swim.” Gandorf drawled. “I’ve cells though, many of those.”

Both Kaun and the boy growled at that, Kaun’s glower was more impressive considering he had fangs and all.

“Remember you place Dog.”

Though Kaun winced and lowered his head in submission the Wolfos lifted it fight back up after realizing what he’d done. Boldly he set his ember eyes to his Lord’s inferno and growled. “And remember your promises and what you owe.”

Neither knight or Lord looked to Aryll, such was not needful. The child, picking up the hostility if nothing else had unslung his shield, like bracing and stubbornness before it’d do him little good should Ganondorf decide to exercise his final rights as Lord.

“You’ve a bird though, a big one.” Boy and dog and man looked up from their sport of glaring. Oblivious the girl tipped her head to one side than the other, as if it’d make the blurted idea rattle about faster. “We could use the bird to go home?”

“And thus we are returned to the problems of before. Why? Why should I help any of you?”

“Because that’s part of saying you’re sorry.” Aryll pointed out.

“Which I’m not.” The Lord of Forsaken growled. “Your services notwithstanding little girl, and the attached debts they’re accrued, I owe no one anything. Unless you’d like to clean the slates here and now, and use them to get yourself and your brother off this rock.” A smile, all fangs and malice and near bting. “Just say the word.”

Silence, quiet, where no words were said, none at all.

Finally, the boy spoke. “Aryll, we need to go home.”

“You still have the bird.”

To that tangent Ganondorf waited, didn’t waste time or breathe to articulate any response. To such a diminutive redundancy there was nothing to say.

“Are you done with the bird?”

“No.”

“Are you going to be done with it soon? Or are we going to have more Hylian puppies snapped up the second they leave?” Kaun growled. “Because I’m not a ween mother, I don’t want more misplaced puppies here. Because they don’t belong here.”

Perhaps reaching for his sword to still them and their rebellious tongues, perhaps merely to tend an itch, or stretch an arm. Intent meant nothing, they all saw the arm rise, all saw him hesitate, then lay lingering hand over pages and papers stolen from the wreckage. The piles of splinters that barely floated, that was scarred with talons and ripped and wrenched so the sails seemed scraps and ghosts when they met the broken timbers just right.

“Is that why you hesitate?” He spoke to the child to whom he owed more than he’d like to confess. “Because this may happen again?”

She took from the Dog’s speech then, met question for question thus stilling any assurances he might have offered her.

“Are you done yet?”

“No I’m not, nor will I be done soon. But perhaps… perhaps you can do something else for me. Pay for your passage as it were...” Fingers twiddled pages, that crinkles and warped under his dark hands. “Would that be agreeable?”

She bit her lip, said nothing, dark eyes distant as she thought.

While she thought, her brother had made some decisions. A nod to himself more than anything else and he stepped forward, hands against his leggings, shield slung back over his shoulder with a careless shrug. “What if we did what the bird was doing for you?”

“What?” The exclamation came out more hiss than word.

“Your bird, is looking for someone right? Looking badly, because well… Outset wasn’t the only place missing people. Everyone knew about that bird. At least that’s what the mail man told me, and the pirates and… well everyone else I met off of Outset."  A growl, more malice than anything else, still the boy took it for a yes because he continued. “So… we find this person you want, we tell you, and then we’re done, that’s how we’ll pay for our trip home.” A swallow. “But only if you promise not to hurt this person, the person you’re looking .”

Silence, a moment, where Lord considered upstart prisoner and her would be rescuer.  Finally; "For now... I've no intent to hurt this person.  They have something I want, I'll take it, and then I've no intent to see this person ever again."

"You promise?"  Link pressed.

"Yes."

"You swear it?"  Kaun rumbled, hackles raised, and no mere armor could hide that fact.

"By blood, blade and fire."  So the man on the throne vowed.  "May all three break if I beak my word"


	5. Children, cowards, and a chicken

They were neither late or early, simply expected, the complaints of the letter were noted (the man-monster’s eyes had glimmered red at their audacity to criticize him) but that was all. Making no comment, sprawled languidly, the man monster seemed content to listen to them comment on the irrelevant and settle themselves in place. Aryll took a place on the rugs edge, her fingers already teasing the fringe, and though it was scary close to the whatever his name’s throne Link stood beside her. And even though sitting would have been great he didn’t have Aryll’s _Aryllness_ about strangers.

And even though the stairs were awful he wasn’t sitting for anything. Not for a hundred rupees or even if a chair was offered. Not that anyone thought to offer anything to anyone.

Kaun went through the motions, of bowing and the like. Busy with babble as timid as the smallest persons could ever be and averted eyes that canted towards a window more than the person they addressed. His bow was so low that wood scraped against steel and left a small rain of splinters when he rose. And to that, for all that effort, there was silence and more silence. The wind dared to whistle outside, near echoing as it brushed against some jagged spire on its journey to somewhere more important than here.

There was something off… not rotting or sick but the room was stale. As Kaun went through motions and his Monster Lord waited them to fall in place and for them to take their place. There was so much waiting that it felt like a thing holding too tight.

Fighting off the sense of being squeezed into silence Link opened his mouth, and blurted into babble about “hunts” and “packs” and other not Outset stuff (so it wasn’t important) that made no sense.

He made sense, lots of it, but both looked at him like he’d spoken gibberish and they hadn’t realized he was even there.

“So when can we leave already?” Because if he didn’t ask Link was more than sure they’d be here forever and ever with all the waiting.

He had a hunch the man Monster didn’t like him one bit considering there was a lot of red in his eyes when he was getting looked at. Smarter people would have backed up. Smarter people wouldn’t have cared that backing up meant stepping on Aryll, since they weren’t here and it was him was and Aryll he didn’t. Even when Aryll moved a bit and started braiding another patch of rug he didn’t take one step back.

“I have thought over your proposal, and while generous I believe your offer too grandiose considering the people making it.”

“Which means?” The Outsetter prodded when the dog-thing wasn’t going to say anything and his sister was too with knotting things up to say anything.

A flick of regard to Aryll, a fang flashed smile to them all, a denial in soft near purring tone. “It means: No thank you.”

“Then how are we going to get home?”

And never mind green, and whatever importance these monster people put on it, there was definitely a wine in his voice. To that Aryll looked up and shook off the tangles and tingles in her fingers.

“I require information, of the world, not as it was but how it is.” Raising a hand to still any and all words –for all three of them seemed inclined to say something- the Lord of Forsaken went on. “One errand, one island, then we’ll be quit of each other’s company, so long as you get what I need. “ When such generosity wasn’t immediately jumped upon, only blank looks sent his way, the sitting man growled and added the magnanimous – and ominous- “I’ll even leave Outset alone as a show of good faith for so long as you live.”

 

Link considered what was said. He thought, a feat that entailed lip nipping and a bit of shuffling that might have become pacing if he’d felt comfortable enough to do so. There were a few comparisons to his motions that could have been made, they weren’t nice so Aryll didn’t make them. She had her mind on other things and deciding that this bit of quiet would do she spoke up.

“The bird is going to be really old by then.”

“No, its hatchlings will likely be very young and hopefully not as stupid as their-”

“It’s a _girl_?” Aryll gapped.

“There’s more of them?” Kaun yelped. After all though he was not learned he wasn’t Islander ignorant, or rather not _pup_ ignorant, and knew quite well what differentiated a Queen from a King. The image of that _thing_ nesting with a swarm of chicklets and mate made him shutter so hard his armor rattled.

Before chicklets and bird monsters could be commented upon Link made his decision.  A nod, and stilling to indicate he was done he canted his head to look up upon this monster King. It took a lot of up, still he did so despite his neck hurting because. It took a moment, and a deep breathe besides, but he was able to push down the shivers that the Dog-knight seemed to always indulge.

And, though there was some instinct that wanted to tangle the words behind his teeth and leave him stuttering and inching back he did not follow the Dog-monster’s example.

He just wasn’t scared of things like that. At least he pretended he wasn’t, and maybe it was because pretend was as real as real for him, because he rarely was shook by anything even when he knew he should be.

“Alright.”

Burning eyes flicked from groveling dog-person to him, and locked.

“When you agree to something with me boy I’ll hold you to your word.”

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Link nodded his agreement. Tabbing on a quiet “Yeah er Yes… I know.”

A head tip to his sister told how, though how this monster-person might know that… Well he didn’t if the frown and glare he sent a bit back and over Link’s shoulder meant anything.

Still, what the Lord thought didn’t matter. Because Link and Aryll had talked, on the walk up, and even a little before. He knew that she hadn’t wanted to leave, and because of that she hadn’t the monster-man Dragos hadn’t made her. Because the dark…. thing… had promised her she could leave whenever she wanted and thus she could stay as long as she wanted too. Because of her Link knew the monster kept his promises, and despite not liking him a lick that was important. Promises to this… thing… were important.

Link normally didn’t trust promises. They were made of words, which were so fragile it was impossible to see how they couldn’t be broken… And the stories… Stugeon’s tales made promises into vows but it all felt like wishes to the boy. And wishes they weren’t really important. What was important was the ground under your feet, keeping an eye on the skies, and checking the lines for bites. That and counting the pigs, and mending the fences…. What was important was tasks and places and keeping everyone fed and happy and safe.

Big birds coming out of said skies were not important, not welcome, and the sooner they got away from a place that had such things the happier Link would be.

“If you’re simply saying this-“

“I’m not a liar, sir.” The boy snapped, because he wasn’t, he was a good boy who normally minded his manners. With this monster-man though Link decided he could be a bit lazy about it since when they weren’t being minded by the adult… Monster or not the thing had to be an adult, right? The idea of it getting larger made the chills want to come back. Not even caring, just scooting because she was done with the latest patch of carpet and there was more to do Aryll chimed in with a firm “Be nice Fire Eyes.” before going back to her knotting.

Not quite rearing back at the twin assault of irate pre-adolescent the fire eyed man growled, slimped back into his bone chair and looked thunderous. A whimper from the red armored beast seemed to slate his anger somewhat, or at least assure him something was normal in a world gone weird.

Smiling, not because he was happy or liked anything, Link was sort of glad in the bad way that the strangeness was getting to someone besides him. Someone mean, who deserved it.

And though wishes were worthless, Link sort of hoped that bother would linger and bother the monster man for a long long while.

Then, simple as that, the four were back to that waiting, in that creeping (creepy) quiet Link felt some of the wiggles from before coming on. The sort of squirm that marked the last few moments before Stugeon, or Orca, said get out because they were done and couldn’t deal with the island’s bounciest person any longer.

He’d of hopped because this was so boring, but there was something of disbelief to the dog-monsters face that kept him from doing so.

Red eyes thinned, finally, slowly feeling the words. “I’m still not thinking you’re quite… what I’m looking for… Even for this simple, menial, task.”

That stilled the hops, and the boring, and the boy, all in one go.

“Yes I am!”

“You just want to leave-” Frustration rose, as did volume, it wasn’t quite a shout but no one was cringing back and the hops that Link was holding back came out, making him bounce from heel to toe even as he argued back.

“Yeah. But you’re not sending us home for this… thing, right? We have to come here to go home after, right?”

A nod, a growl, anger and hesitance twisted the monster’s features, if one listened close they might hear the grinding of fangs.

“I’ll keep him out of trouble.” Aryll promised from her place on the other side of the room, the last edge folded over, bound in place by the tangled nonsense weaving held it that way.

Perhaps fangs locked when they were grit because the man-beast didn’t open his mouth fast enough.

With a huffed bark, tail twitching in a near wag, Kaun snorted. “And how am to keep you out of trouble then pup, if you’re there and I’m here? Neither one of you are going, not without a ween mother to keep you fed and away from wild Floormasters.” A glance to flummoxed master, and the tail went still. “Ah… so long as my Lord allows?”

A nod and grunt was answer, a wave of the arm was translated to get out. As they padded, clanked, and all but skipped towards the exit the monster-man’s fangs unlocked. There was a bit of growl to the words, a world of hesitance, still the orders came.

“Come back when Nayru’s blind eye touches the lowest spire of Forsaken, that will give me enough time to arrange things with the King. If you _aren’t_ there and ready to be gone you’ll find the dungeons your home until you die. Understood?”

Considering he was the only one present, for the two youngest had been skipping and running for out, thus were out first and out a bit before the words could be heard Kaun winced up at his lord. The door slammed shut and Aryll’s voice raised in a “look see”, her brother’s was a louder “slow down”, neither had heard a word of the belated threat.

“Ah… pups… I’ll just…” Inching towards out the door, one paw step at a time Kaun considered groveling, scraping, then decided that between his Lord’s expression that out was best. “I’ll just… ah out… and tell…”

Armor made running hard, but generations of Wolfos had learned the art, especially when their lord was looking at them like skinning was on and it was a well-known tale that the master always had his knife and kept it sharp. The door slammed shut a second time and with a groan, more pain then growl, Dragos threw himself back into his throne and stared wryly at his knotted rug and swore in a language deader than the world below.

This was what the world had left for him, not pawns, but children and cowards and that bloody oversized chicken that was too near sighted to snatch up the right little girl.

Din’d damned him on her leaving, Nayru the world and Din him, it was the only explanation that made sense. Alone, he had to wonder what surprises Farore had left behind, then considering the boy in green, this times seeming hero, and decided that that brat was bad enough a blight that clearly the goddess had tried for cursing both world and hero’s line both at once and had likely succeeded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for taking so long, it took forever to decide the mechanics of this (originally this was a game outline that I was going to try to run through a maker, the limits on those pulled me off of that route almost immediately) then to eventually drop the idea of mechanics… Though I do hope I can use some of those dungeon outlines in an alternate means of game route… and items, I made some of my own… Anyway babbling aside, there’s been some idea changes that made me epically revamp how I was going to do this. In the original piolet “Stages of Flight” Link pulls his adventures solo with him and the bird being the focus. My characterization of Aryll wasn’t taking that quietly. So yeah. Massive plot changes were required. Digging deeper in the scenario I also realized another massive narrative hitch, without Aryll in danger any real reason for Link to leave is just… gone. He goes in canon to save his sister, short of Ganon taking her hostage and using her as incentive to make the Hero slave for him well I could see a number of ways that would fail, too many to have any length or to have quality just… work out. So yeah, I had to take a long think as to how this was going to work and after a while I think I’ve got enough to off the ground to continue.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Getting between here and there

All the expected sounds were replaced by thunder.  A storm that never stopped, never stilled, never neared.

He paced about his charges, setting armor before each, his voice and words were lost as he droned on about cleaning and care.  Interspacing his lecture with a crack of oiled rag upon the least attentive of his lot.  A few times thunder coincided with the motion, most times it didn’t, his dream was divorced yet driven by a thunder that nearly mimed a sleepers pulse.  Sound ran by its own rules, and in this dream of recollection well it’s timing barely touched. 

 Young as they were his pups jostled for the title of most fluff brained and came back to attention with sheepish snickers and lowered heads miming shame that was felled by smiles that they hid by looking away of busying  with tasks already done.

That and swiping at oil that slicked fur and darkened it and didn’t really go away no matter how much you pawed at it.

And if they developed little things, between his coming and goings to get supplies and other bits of armor, or when he focused on one and the other burst into small scuffle, well he didn’t say anything.  Nor did he comment on the horridly uncreative mustaches they doodled upon each other’s snouts or the paw prints that marred pristine patches of fur.  Some things were best not spoken of after all.

xxx

He dreamt of flying, not upon bird’s back but something more sedate, more tame.  The clouds roiled before him and thus he walked across a stone path that wasn’t.  Mist rose and fell about his legs, slate colored and bubbling with light.  There was thunder at those times sometimes and silence in others.  Still it was a kind of flight he flew with his feet never leaving the ground.

After a while, weary of walking he looked down, seeking familiar seas or islands or-

_Home he wanted home_

-anything really.

But he got noting save grey and in frustration he started seeking that flash of light that obeyed-

_And disobeyed as it ever would_

-the rules of sound in this curious when and where he found himself in.

And for his effort he found nothing and got nothing.

He could not grab the thunder, could not peer through the lightning, and the road he took was ponderous and obscured by a grit gray haze.

Xxx

She dreamt of flying, remembered it from birds back and through sea gulls eyes and for having seen it so many ways perhaps remembered it truer than others.  There were storms at her back, streaking a span of horizon as they chased themselves and their own light and built both light and sounds and dark in equal measure and got nowhere at all.

There were islands before her, some sprawling, some specks.

Neither called her, nothing bound her, so she flew, switching between flying and being flown at whims drive with the storms of the world neither close nor far.

But ever thundering.

XXX

It was the ghost of a storm and half recalled dreams in their heads that they awoke.

It was dark, not the dark of grey stone and overcast sky compiling to make a near eternal twilight, but a tamer kind of dark. The moon as it fell stained a span of the horizon and the waves shattered that light into fragments that were both dizzying and bright.

Above the stars glimmered seemingly just out of reach.  They were never alight in the sky of Forsaken and their light, to that familiarity and that of beach and ocean that wasn’t pitch and stagnant Aryll flopped onto the sands and smiled.

Groaning, arm thrown over his head, Link whined for a few more moments, rolling over until his face found the sands.

As for the Wolfos he stood, armor creaking and hissing with sand, craning his head first up and forward, he said nothing, was statue still for a long time.  Finally, when the moon was little more than a line and the sky steeling itself for the coming dawn he shook off his shock and stopped looking in the skies for a star to wink out, for the screaming descent of that blasted bird to herald the end of his time here to take him back from where they’d been.

With a grunt, pulling his gaze away from a greying sky and a bird that wasn’t coming Kaun let out a sharp bark waking the two drowsing cubs at his feet.  A quick look about showed a street leading from beach to a set of squarish buildings beyond an arch, a look back showed a span of beach leading to the base of a cliff with a spread of darkness that he coming light wasn’t thinning out brought him something of hope.

It was a promise of shelter, subterranean at best, a half flooded hidey hole at worst.

But it was better than nothing.

A light glimmered to life in one window, and hat more than the threat of coming sun decided him.

He lead and grudgingly, shaking sleep from their eyes and sand from their forms, they followed.


	7. Windfall part one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I waited until I was done with my windfall notes before posting because I wanted to make sure I could finish this arch before I started. Sorry for the wait and enjoy.

He’d tried digging, the den he’d founded was a shallow thing but when his efforts clogged his claws and mane with and as base and top crumbled together and atop him he’d called tunneling deeper a loss and not much of one.  The floor was mainly stone; it’d serve so long as it didn’t flood.

Thus with the ocean as their welcome mat, he’d queried as to what that meant and the Islander cubs had laughed, sharing looks and a joke at his ignorance and having been amused by their humor hadn’t pushed it, he set them to little tasks.  The she pup he set to ranging up and down the shore, fetching sticks and drift bits for the night’s fire.  Sweeping up tracks once it was light enough to do so was the boy cub’s chore and his was re sending the boy out to undo his most recent batch when he’d caught the cub not cleaning his most recent trail up because Kaun’d somehow failed to mention that obvious tidbit.

Once that was done they were mewing him about food, having not eaten, but were luckily the lot were sea sharp enough not to get at the water all about them.

A good thing as he didn’t have anything but a few rupees in his pockets and he hadn’t heard of anyone curing salt water sickness with rupees before.

So, with a wince to grieve his loss of money he sent them to market, with warning of what to get him to eat (meat, cooked, but not seasoned, and _not_ fish) and the suggestion that they get themselves something both to eat and to carry food and water in.

He should have warned them to hurry, warned against loitering and wandering.

But he didn’t, thus they did.

XXX

Hand in hand, because big brother insisted, they went to market, or rather under the large arch that lead deeper in to the spiral inspired streets of Windfall.  Here the wind would catch and whistle shrilly, setting door signs to flapping like gull wings through they were wood.

With the pictures flipped up and wrong way around it became a guessing game of where does this lead?

One that came with the soon to be obvious stipulation of “don’t’ go into the houses without signs” because those were houses” and people really didn’t like it when you barged into their house.

Picking out a bit of potter from his hair - the last house had all sorts of stuff in the front and a long table that might have been a shop keepers stall (having only heard of actual stalls and shops via Sturgeon neither were really sure what they were supposed to look like, thus they’d guessed)- and grumbling about how rude that last person was they’d stopped by a water pump to flush out any missed crockery, the muck off of big brother’s hat, and her hands because Kaun’s beach house was messy and she knew how important clean hands were.

It was there they’d been found, not by village elders asking who they were and did they need a bite, but by a woman who was almost, but now quite, as ancient as Sturgeon.  She didn’t have grey hair, or wispy hair, (but a bizarre pink hue, that was locked into a pose reminiscent of a butterfly wings spread by means of blue rupee tie and many many pins) but her eyes and mouth were marked with lines that tipped up and hinted at years and years of smiles.

“Hello there, are you lost?”

Big brother, not as canny to the ways of adults and their _tones_ nodded, wringing his hat a little before popping it on his head.  Aryll, well she crept back a bit and looking back found a little path that lead behind the house they’d accidentally broke into.

At least that’s what the person wrapped up in the towel had hollered at them, that and other, meaner things, but she tried not to remember those.

“We’re… ah new… ah visiting, for a little.”  Big brother said with a small smile. “We’re just.. looking  around a bit before we go where we need to go.”

Aryll, hearing that little hum and seeing that look adults get when they were going to do things, like make rules and the like, slid one foot back, than another, not quite dragging, but close enough that it was quiet like. 

“And where you need to go?”

A few steps to the side to avoid a rock and nasty trip and Aryll kept creeping back, the pretty old lady hardly noticed, paying attention to big brother who was trying his bestest to not say anything important and not doing well.

Finally with a sigh he told a truth.  “I really don’t know.”

“Well why don’t you come with me, Dear, we’ll get you all sorted out.”

“Alright… um…”

Aryll slipping about the corner, it’d been a little path and all, and threw out a quick wave to say bye and good luck, and a lot of things at once.  She’d let big brother decide on what, all that mattered was that she run.

Link, not really knowing better looked to her, her running off, then looked to the old woman who was smiling so brightly and slipped up to him, arm wrapped around his waist as she gently lead him away.

“Have you ever been to a school my Dear?”

“Umm… no mam’”  Looking back, to where Aryll had been and wondering why she ran but sure she’d be back and soon allowed himself to be pulled along by the woman.  She was barely taller than him, her hair almost having more height than she did.  “We… uhh had, have tutors.  A tutor.  It’s a small island but he’s the best!”  Link preened.

“Well I’m sure it is.”  She hummed.  “Well here, at Windfall we have a little school, we call it the School of Joy, where we all take joy in learning and in spreading joy, of course.”   A titer, and something, a ghost of fear like yet unlike that fear when Aryll had been swept up ran up his spine.

That bird, and the woman, had something alike, in the grip it seemed.

“So, you’re tutor, what was his name?”

“Uhmm…”  twisting his arm, she shifted her grip a bit with an apologetic slant to her smile.  “Sturgeon?”

Dread turned surety into question.  She tutted, shaking her head and Link looked up seeing their destination at last.  It was very… pastel and the vibrant pink and blue butterfly shaped thing above the door gave him almost a big a chill as that Man-Monster’s  door had.

“Sturgeon, from Windfall Island, I remember him when he was a little thing, no younger than you.  Quite the troublemaker he was, and his brother!  He… ah isn’t your father now, is he?”

“No ma’am.”

“Very good.”

 She patted his arm, she loosed her grip to get the door and between her at his back gently smiling and the brightness and stools before him Link felt a bit dazed as she nudged him in.  There were boys sitting at stools, and little girls littler than Aryll and it was bright, so  very bright.

“Hello class, I just picked up a bit of a straggler today but all’s well. I see you got a good start without me, what wonderful art you’ve made!”

Considering the mess of papers and paint in the rooms center and how very very special paper was because Stugeon said so Link waffled between horror and shock and dawning color blindness.

Because the room was so very very bright and those little girls smiles were even brighter and a bit sharkish as well and Link was a bit scared.  Just a tiny bit.

So when the teacher asked him his name he woodenly gave it, and when the kids all chorused a loud “Hello Link,” two things struck him.

One, he was trapped.  Imagining those smiles turning into frowns because he left chilled him almost as much as the Monster Man’s glare did.  And two, he was really sure that Kaun was going to be very very mad at him because this wasn’t picking up food and he had the rupee pouch, not Aryll.

“Uhm.. Hi?”

Though question he managed a twinkling wave and the lot laughed.

“He is a new one teach.”  One of the boy’s jeered.

To that Link stuck his tongue out, because then and there… well it was the only thing to do.


	8. Chapter 8

It’s the smell of food and something biter that draws Aryll from slinking about behind buildings.

That and her stomach which is growling and growling.

The houses (maybe shops) aren’t towering things, like the ones at Forsaken, but then nothing is as big as there, and though they aren’t gloomy they make their own in their own way. Packed together like crates upon crates, it creates enough gloom despite them being palest grey and brightest white that when she does pop out of an alley she startles a pretty lady with a white apron and the darkest eyes.

Dropping something small and ember bright (the bitter smell is really strong here) the woman let out a small shriek that strangled off into silence and a scowl.

“What in the Sea’s name are you doing playing back here little girl?”

Hands on hips, scuffing a brown shoe against something that was hastily dropped and smoldering, the woman tried and failed to glower scary like.  Having seen dogs with fangs longer than her fingers glower (and people with fangs too, though those weren’t so long) she might have told the woman how bad a glare she had. Might of, but her stomach growled, and both heard it.

And for hearing it the woman stilled, and stared a long long stare.

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?  One of the bird’s children?”

To that Aryll’s feet seemed smarter than the rest of her, sliding back one step, then another.

But this woman was smarter than the last, and faster.  She lunged forward, catching Aryll wrist before she could try to run off again, and her grip wasn’t hurting tight, just restrictive.

“It’s not a bad thing!”  The assurance was yelped, like how Kaun yelped the one time she’d stepped on his tail.  “You’re safe, I’m not going to hurt you.  No one’s going too..  It’s just a bit of a scare is all, seeing a little one with long ears just pop out of nowhere like that.”

The woman smiled, and with a squeeze let go of the hand, knelt down, and tiredness more than anything kept Aryll still and listening.

“Look, I think I’ve made a bit of a mess of things.  Let’s start again, my name’s Gilian, what’s yours?”

“I’m Aryll.”

“Alright, how about this Aryll, I work at my Da’s inn and… café, you’re welcome to come in, get a bite, and while you do that well we’ll talk a little alright?”

Food sounded nice, eating and sitting at a table were wonderful things she hadn’t had for a month, maybe more.  With a happy little sigh Aryll nodded and when the woman stood and offered her hand she took it.  Good thing too, because the stairs up to Gillian’s café thingie were big.  Not Forsaken big but nearly.

Near the top, by a door baring some sign that Aryll couldn’t read and didn’t have a picture to help her along she waited while the woman fussed with her apron pocket for keys.  While she waited she hummed, slipping hands in pockets and twiddled seagull feathers and her one green rupee that she wasn’t giving Fire Eyes, ever.

Because big brother had come and she was right and he was wrong so it was her rupee so there.

A click caused the girl to look up and the door was open, a nudge and she was in. It was a dark room, long with slits for windows and chairs stacked on tables but Gillian was nice enough to fix that.  Pulling down two chairs and after brushing off the seats with a towel from her apron pocket gave a chair a pat.  Understanding that invitation Aryll scrambled up and sat while Gillian set her dress just so then herself across from her.

Once settled she racked her mind, trying to recall all the stories about non islanders, they were filled with words that meant meanness in different shades.  Greedy and cruel and other things that weren’t nice so she didn’t say anything at all. Not even when the woman in front of her stood and went back a ways beyond a long solid slab of wood and reached under for glasses.  One she filled with something that hissed and fizzed and the bitter smell was like outside but stronger, the other she took to a small pump and filled with water.  Aryll got the water and drank it but looked wondering at the other glass.

“It’s a bit early but it’s going to be one of those days.”  Was said like an explanation.

Maybe it was, Aryll didn’t ask, only considered rupee and feathers, and decision reached she pulled out her green rupee and lay it on the table.

“Oh dear… you don’t have to… it’s just water…”

Shaking her head Aryll drank and only after she swallowed did she speak.  “I need more… there’s more, my brother and me, and our friend and we need more.”

Because big brother had Kaun’s money and Kaun’d counted and recounted and still hadn’t been happy when he passed it off to them.

“To get home?”

She nodded, close enough.

“Well, here’s how it goes.” The woman said and warned, horridly serious, like Sturgeon and one of his history tales. “This, this isn’t a lot. I don’t have a lot.  But I can give you a little, right now, no cost, and a meal because it looks like you need one of those too.   And if you help me today I can give you a little more.  So I can help in that way.  And if you’re lucky and smart, and work hard, you, you’re brother, and your friend, you might be able to buy passage home someday.”

 _Someday_ sounded like a promise and like forever all at once.

Still Aryll agreed with a nod and a smile and a question, the most obvious one at that.

“What do you need me to do?”

To that the woman laughed, though she didn’t say why, and the very first thing they did was split a sandwich between them.  Then, she was assured, there’d be chores aplenty.

XXX

It was late, forever really, until he was let outside.  He’d never thought recess could sound as welcome as home, but it was after hours there.  And while he wasn’t the first out he wasn’t the last and the bright sunlight paled before the brighter classroom he’d quit.

And if Ms. Marie had passed him an apple and a slice of bead to nip at before he got out, well he thanked her and she ruffled his hair with a wide smile and orders for him to pay nice.  Pulling his cap out from where he’d slid it under his belt (because wearing hats indoors was rude, though no one’d told him this before) he pulled it one to avoid more hair ruffles and ignored the heckles of “Yo, teach’s pet” as he wandered the span of land where roads of dirt met and made a whole clearing of the stuff. There were poles and banners and roads running every which way, and people wandering every which way upon those roads.

Some lead to the sea, the most open ones.  Others lead back and others up but none lead to Aryll.

So he went looking.  Wandering and nibbling, picking the sunniest paths and asking people from time to time if they’d seen his sister.  Some ask for the obvious, what’s she look like, and it’s frustrating to reply to it again and again.

She’s shorter than him, prettier, a girl, hence _little sister_.  She’s wearing a dress with flowers because girls did that, and no it wasn’t green.  Only boys wore green.  It’s when his recess is at its end and he’s heading back-

(because people, well one, might worry  and having had that feeling he knew how awful it was, he’d go back and explain then go back out again because this was more important… most important)

-that he gets lucky.

She’s hopping down stairs, a bag dragged behind her, her back turned to him but he’d recognize her anywhere.  And when she turns to wipe her brow and grumble at the sack that was just not coming along he can’t resist, after all she’d done it to him often enough.

Her hop was beyond amusing, and he’s picking up one end of the bag and she, scolding and stuttering and “I did not hop, you liar!” is getting the other.  It’s easier when they both take the stinking… whatever… it was down and around the building.  The drops long and the waters at falls end are bright blue and they toss the whole lot of trash down that fall and the ocean takes the muck away.

“Where’ve you been?” He hasn’t been looking everywhere all day but he lets some exasperation creep into his voice and his arm on his hips was a take from grandma when she’s super worried.

“I got a job!  Here… There..”  She waved to indicate stairs and up and the one building he’d ignored because after the island he’d rescued her from she should have been weary of up.

He certainly was.

It was her turn to ask now, and she jumped on it, near sing songed it.  “Where were you going?”

“School.  The pink haired lady’ she’s a tutor like Sturgeon.”

Before she could ask, or tease, or whatever bells clanged from above and back.  A last warning.  Above and behind a woman’s voice hollered, concerned.

“Do you want to stay or?”

“I’ll see you after work,”  She giggled, tired too look grown up and just failed.  It had something to do with the shortness Link supposed and the fact she couldn’t pull a straight face.  “ You’ve got Kaun’s money, right?”

Link nodded, because he hadn’t lost that at least.

“We’ll get a big dinner latter, maybe from here… “  A door above creaked open a woman poked out,  wearing a sea blue shirt, a white aproned, and any illusions of the sea were broken by the fact seas didn’t get red faced like that.  “I gotta go!”

So she went and so did he, after looking about a bit and making sure he could find here and thus her again.

XXX

Time passed and shadows outside his den, pulled and twined about, it was a slow ponderous thing, and had he something of a moblin’s ingenuity he’d of cobbled something of a clock from drawing lines in the sand.  As it was he gauged time by patience and the snarl in his stomach.   Some luckless crab scuttled by during his waiting and one snatch and snap of jaws on the back end and he had one less measure to gauge time.

It was a curious thing, eating something with its bones on the outside.  Pulling off a leg he sucked on a still twitching limb and found something rather than marrow awaiting his questing tongue.

Not quite liking the taste he set the lot aside and sorted the she cub’s efforts, looking down oly when a curious coolness matted the edges of his paws.

Thinking he’d misread the line of the water he went back a ways.   When the water followed and rose to his claw tips, making ever step squelch Kaun’d began to worry.  When it raised its way to his ankles he’d scrambled out of his makeshift den and into the glaring sun all his worldly goods either worn or bundled in his arms.

Shaking his paws with each step upon the green grass he’d quit sandy beach, tossing sand scaled cape about his shoulders with a wince.  Still the paths were swept clean, and as for the more sturdy stuff  with grass he wasn’t quite sure what to do so he did nothing.  And tried to not think of the grainlets  that were surly finding seams and joints with every step.  There were no people when he’d ran across the beach, no fuss no holler.  He’d quit the road leading up and in as soon as he could and wandered about the edge of a town that was both chromatically opposite of the familiar and curiously turned inward instead of out.

Thus there were no spy holes, no windows, no people looking beyond the door of their neighbor or whatever center served for this place.

Thus he avoided them all, circling about and around the edges of the town until he found one curiosity.  A door, wooden and aged, it’s path overgrown with only a few bits of dead and brown marking it as having a road.  A very once upon a time road, to quote the youngest of those he watched.

The door turned under paw, no screech or click like all the doors in Forsaken, and though once opened it stayed horridly small he managed.  First he tossed in the irrelevant, the wood and odd and ends that might be useful that he’d lunged for on his run out.

Nothing save a thud resulted in his actions.  No screams or uproar, only a curious whistling snort sound that didn’t cut off despite the ruckus.  Daring, he poked his head in.

Nothing save darkness and bars in the distance. All by accident he’d found some kin to the cell at Forsaken with a curious green bundle tucked in the corner.

The similarities between here and there were both soothing and disquieting, but for now, in these moment he eschewed both and called the lot shelter and figured it good enough.  Sucking in a deep breathe he sidled through the too small Islander door sidewise, having to stop first to pull back.  His helm had caught, thus he’d rose a small ruckus, swearing and snarling as he pull it’s horns out of the door’s frame.  Once freed he’d chucked it through and it hit the cell’s bars with a steely clatter.

The whistle snore stopped at that.

But by then he was sucking in a deep breath and trying the sideways way again.  His sword caught then, and only by twisting his belt and pants to a horribly uncomfortable slant was he able to push through.  With a sigh he’d busied with door, closing and after a bit of effort jerry rigged a lock via looping his belt about it and looping it against some knobby bit of root that jutted out of the wall.  While not perfect opening the door would be both noisy and difficult and that would have to be enough.

Pausing, to better align the crest upon his belt trap so it was decorated side up Kaun turned about to consider the room, much to his chagrin a part of the room was also up and about and considering him, face pasty and mouth a gap.

And all that uproar he’d avoided, well it found him then in the form of a green clad islander who could truly and surly scream.


	9. Chapter 9

It was nearly dark when Aryll came for him.  He sitting on the school’s stairs under the watchful eye of Ms. Marie and her fib about seeing him home seemed to be enough. Sweating, and a bit shaky (that little old woman had a glare like that evil bird and Windfall was hotter than hot today) Link allowed Aryll to lead.  First back a ways then up the stairs, when they both went down, encumbered with enough food to” feed the islands for days” or so Link groused, they picked their way down streets, he ignoring curious looks and Aryll ignoring his whining.

Nice though he may be Link hated chores, and carrying all this definitely was one.

Down they went till road met beach and from there with Link using his hat to sort of swipe at their tracks.  While not perfect it sort of worked, the tides would do the rest.

And speaking of tides, the tide had done a number on their hidey hole. Even from a distance it looked distinctly wetter than before, and the pit that Kaun had started to dig was flooded.  While not completely gone the pillar was about halfway there and the sight of that caused Aryll to worry. Laying her food down she went up to their hole away from home at a run, hollering the Dog-thing’s name while Link decided to sit and not run about and put down the heavy stuff that both Kaun rupees and Aryll’s work had bought them.

It was mainly food, a few blankets, and some odd end pots some loon was about to throw out.  Those they’d scrubbed and filled with fresh water, those Link had been hugging hardest because they were heavy and a bit jagged and… well better him be cut than Aryll.

Having gone and seeing, yes, it was flooded Aryll hared back to him, all but bouncing in worry.

“Big brother you can swim underwater, right?”

While it was big brother instinct to say yes, and to say nothing was wrong and if it was it was horribly tiny and he’d fix it (like any big brother ought to do, the best ones anyway) Link froze.  Could he?  Maybe.  Had he before? No.

Did he want to, to look through stinging salt water for… well for a monster who might not have had the sense to run before the water got him? He didn’t.

And something in him hurt for realizing it.

So he shook his head because that was so much easier than talking right then, and she looked tearily from him to submerged cliffs base and back again.  A wordless entreaty for him to fix it, make everything better, because that’s what he did.  Didn’t he?  Not wanting to see his doubt in her eyes he looked up, not towards the town but the other way.  There was a road, leading up, and on that road, fast approaching was a familiar red eyes Monster.  Looking five types of angry in both doggish and people ways was Kaun, sans red armor, eyes so hot looking it was a wonder his fur didn’t char.

“Where in the frozen pits of Nayru’s frigid hell have you been!”

Whatever else was going to be said cut off, as with a squeak Aryll ran up path, nearly tripped, then the lecture was over.  Because, really, you couldn’t yell well with a sobbing little girl bur wrapped around your leg.

With a huff the monster switched from standing to kneeling, carefully pulling Aryll back a bit so he wouldn’t hurt her in doing this.  She lunged then, wrapping arms about his neck, and grudgingly, tail swiping stiffly behind him ears slicked back, he picked her up.  First smoothing then moving hair about, plucking at sleeves, the dog monster asked if she was alright in that stilted _I’m still angry but now I’m worried_ tone that Grandma had made.  As he asked he walked about shifting his grip and carrying her, claws carding her hair, looking to her than him and when that happened Link shrugged.

He didn’t get it either.

And since he didn’t have anything to do he picked up bits and pieces of their buying and brought it to the path in trips.

The second trip from beach and back had Aryll crying a little less, the less tearing type of crying.  Setting a pot of water down Link considered another trip down, and considered not doing it and decided he’d done enough.  He sat and helped himself to a handful of water.  The dog monster glared at him, tail still flick flicking he walked about in small short  circles, using claws as a comb and murmuring nonsense like “I can swim just fine” and “Din’d not short me that much little pup”.

Well the swimming wasn’t nonsense, his sisters’ babbling was more nonsense than anything now but it was less hurt.  Less scared sounding.

“I’d like answers.” 

That was growled down at him and to that Link stood, turned back towards beach and back to carrying.  Idiotic thoughts, like how’s a monster learn to act like his grandma did.  And thoughts about swimming and what he might of found if things hadn’t happened as they had…  It was like sickness without the bad food to help it along.  Everything from… well the whole day, it boiled over, making him mean.

“Well I’d like help but I’m not getting that am I?”

A snarl at his back, and shifting the nestling Aryll close with one arm the dog monster picked up what Link had left, pushing past some overgrown greenery he went up a ways and there was crazy as could be the creaking of a door.  That and a slamming, after a few snarled sounding swear words anyways.

Fifth round up and the door creaking open a bit between fourth and fifth was all the warning Link needed.  He found the dog waiting, it picked up the bulk of the boy’s leavings, and between what was left and what little he carried Link could handle the rest.  Turning on a clawed paw without words or offer to take more though there was room in those big arms for more it was obvious the boy was expected to carry the last up.

It’d been three rounds up, stumbling over the rocks leading up to those screening bushes, and near slipping over soft sands and…  Well the just going back and forth had helped work out some of the sickness in his gut.  Not all, but enough that he was feeling a bit less angry and a little sorry too.

He snatched and ran and luck was with him because he caught up.  Or maybe the dog had heard him running and stopped, Link wasn’t sure.  But he was there and they weren’t in yet, it was as good a chance as any.

“I’m uh…”

From the back, grey furred and large, Kaun was like talking to a lichen covered wall.  A wall with slicked back ears and a tail that would not quit swish swishing and staying low like the ears, but there was something big about him even if he was smaller than the man-monster at Forsaken.  Refusing to turn about, the monster shifted its burden that it held against itself and waited a moment or two.

Of course now was the time Link’s brain decided to do the whole not working thing.  His mouth opened and closed a few times and nothing came out and so he was the one shifting his stuff about trying to say anything.

Finally, with effort that left him flushed and a bit snappish the boy managed.  “I’m sorry, alright?”

“For?”

Oh how he _hated_ it when adults did that.  “Wasn’t sorry good enough” railed with a twisting bit of shame that nearly made him sick, and both stole his voice.  Because he was sorry, really sorry that he couldn’t wouldn’t have been willing to dare a bit of salt water, and he winced at how bad that sounded when he thought of it in his head.

“A lot.”  Link groaned.  “I.. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what you did wrong?”  Ears flicked and the creature turned, fail flick flicking even though its voice stayed flat.  Not angry but not normal either.  “Why don’t you try?”

“Try?”

“To think, about what you did wrong, and later you can tell me what you’ve thought of.”

“Alright?”

The agreement, lukewarm as it was, was made to the monster’s back as he’d turned about and got back to walking, leaving Link to scramble after him.

 

XXX

 

There’d been a bit of drama, excitement even when upon opening the door his bound and once gagged captive, well he started his uproar of “HEEEL ulp!” oddly enough swallowing the last syllable and starting to hyperventilate as he stared at the suddenly shy sea pup.  Not wearing a cape gave the boy pup less places to hide but the cub temporized with cringing behind him and hissing a soft.

“Make him stop staring…  It’s creepy!”

“No no no Mr. Fairy you needn’t hide.”

Scrape scrape went the chair as it inched forward.  Having been bound by ratty ropes and the wolfos’ own belt until he couldn’t run, or do much save flail his feet and talk (and how the gag got out… well Kaun had his suspicions but didn’t press it now) the bound green clad islander was managing something of a hopping approach at a pace a drunk moblin might have envied.   The bars that separated the adult islander and the two cubs and himself made approaching something of a futile exercise.

Sill Kaun’d give credit where it was due, the green clad… whatever it was…. got to those bars babbling strange endearments  about fairies until said chair caught a chip in just the right (wrong) way and tipped forward.

All chatter stopped in a pained “Owchies” as the bound being landed just right and it’s big head caught the bars and held the whole mess of man and chair up.

Tipped, precariously, but still it was a kind of up.

Flicking a glance at the she pup who was being reasonable and ignoring the crazy thing in the room and keeping busy spreading out a blanket upon the floor and chasing out wrinkles with enthusiasm that alternated between fussy and futile (the rooms floor was hardly even, more muck than stone) he nudged the boy cub towards it’s sib and swaggered up to the cage.  He might be without sword in paw but the ears of the thing and the back of its head paled nicely.  As for his sword, it hung hilt snagged on a root on the farthest wall from the cubs because while it’d been a long time since he’d had cubs under his watch that were stupid young it hadn’t been _that_ long.  His growl and slamming his paws a goodly span above the thing, hitting the bars so they shook made it scream, but at least the fairy babbling cut off. 

Because the ranting was starting up again and as the cub had put it it was creepy.

Another smash, the wooden rods nearly buckled and if the thing fell over, well that was an accident.  The knocking it unconscious because it fell wrong was also an accident, but not one that he was going to apologize for.

“Now that it’s quiet.”  Kaun flicked his tail about in a short wag, because though it was an accident it’d been a fortunate one that he could savor, he turned about to look at both cubs who were gapping at him as if he’d grown a second tail.  “What all were you doing that took all day?”

“You’re just going to….”  The short green clad islander waved at his comatose elder beyond the bars.

“I was working, I got a job!” was chirped up at him at the same time as was the halfhearted complaint.  “Just like a grown up!”

Flicking an ear Kaun patted the she cub’s head fur and looked to her brother for explanation, of his location or what a job was, either would have been fine.

Of course it wasn’t what he got.

“You’re going to leave him like that?”

After waiting long enough for the cub to draw his own conclusions and a little longer because that was a curious red hue he was turning Kaun lingered even as the she cub got to opening parcels wrapped in fuzzy fabrics and spread them out on the striped thing she was calling a table away from tables.  Finally when it seemed obvious nothing was going to be said Kaun indulged the obvious.

“Yes.  I am.”

“But… that’s…  'Scuse me…”  Stopping his whatever it was going to be the boy cub stepped aside as his sister worked.  She was preoccupied with laying bits of food on shards of pottery.  “But that’s…”  A tug on his sleeve cut off whatever he was building up to and really Kaun was starting to suspect this all was deliberate on the she pup’s part.  “Yes Aryll?”

“Could you move the water pot in the center it’s… too heavy for me to lift.”

“Alright.”

And to that agreement this… whatever it was going to be… was quickly forgotten with the he-cub being far too busy helping to entertain any other thoughts in his head.

Making a mental scratch on the stone of his mind to remember this Kaun watched them work for a bit then sat at an empty place while they finished.  A pottery with meat, some cooked some not, was slid his way with a sort of bearing of teeth that the she-cub had called smiling.  He mimed the motion as he picked up the freshest of the offering and scarfed it down.

And for a short while at least, there was peace in eating.  And while not quiet, the cubs’ chatter of their day to each other was clearly an expected sort of thing amongst themselves so he said nothing.  And in doing so learned a great deal of “work” and “school” and other odd islander cub things.


End file.
